


A little bit of discipline doesn’t hurt

by SutaMasque



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dry Orgasm, Dubious Consent, Group Sex, Hate Sex, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, No Aftercare, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Puppet Master Wilson, Rough Sex, Shadow Puppets, Slurs, Survivor Maxwell, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 14:29:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6708460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SutaMasque/pseuds/SutaMasque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maxwell encounters the new puppet master for the first time, Wilson has his priorities set.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A little bit of discipline doesn’t hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Dietcloud and me bc I have no shame   
> Enjoy (or not)

Long ago taken off the throne, Maxwell roamed the world he had made, discovering more and more land each day. Resources seemed to be always lacking, so it was quite often that he found himself outside of the camp taken by surprise as the night fell while gathering. Today he'd been mining all day, tired muscles ached from exertion as the magician finally put down the pickaxe and started a fire. The night was nearing and the man let himself relax and lay down, staring up into the sky void of stars. Why had he never made them? Was it his own cruel irony - a symbol of lost hope? Reflecting, Maxwell closed his eyes.

He only opened them again when he heard a foreign sound. A hiss came from the darkness, having the magician stand up and grab the tool he'd used to mine, ready to protect himself would a stray spider wander into his light. But that was no spider. Maxwell noticed a movement in the darkness, a familiar shape, and his eyes widened. That was-

Shadows grabbed him and pushed him to his knees. Maxwell snarled and winced in pain from the hard landing on the rocks, glaring up at the figure emerging from the night, “Higgsbury...” his voice low and threatening. Wilson seemed unfazed by the display of anger as he stopped before the survivor. In fact, he found that rather cute. Maxwell was like a small animal, trapped, trying to scare his predator but unable to do anything.

“Good evening, Maxwell,” the king greeted, smirking at the magician, “It's a lovely night out isn't it? No thing to see beyond the light of your campfire, just like you like it.” Clicking of the sovereign's heels against the cold stone symbolized his approach, and the shadows tugged on Maxwell's frame, making him straighten his back. Wilson stared down at him, seeming to finally enjoy the fact he could be _above_ the ex-king.

“Do you know why I am here?” Wilson cooed, flashing a sickening grin at the other man. The reply was less than satisfactory, “To degrade me? Sorry pal, but you can't possibly do better than this place does on daily basis.” Oh he'd make him eat these words, he'd _ruin_ him. Maxwell seemed to notice the scowl and sneered, showing his teeth, “Still not quite as good as I was.” That cocky bastard!

A shadow hand enclosed around the magician's mouth, cutting any attempt of a comment short. That was better. It was better when he was silent and disheveled. If anything, that was sexy. Oh... And Wilson was losing his temper.Wrong answer. He frowned.

“I'm going to _fuck you_ , Maxwell. Remember when you did the same to me? I bet you _can't wait_ to get a taste of your own medicine.” he wasn't going to, really, but Wilson wanted to threaten, to see fear of what was going to come in the other's eyes and then laugh at him, oh how he was going to laugh, “I'll fuck you until your voice goes hoarse from it, Maxwell, until you beg for me to stop from how used you are, and even then I won't relent,” the king shivered at his own thought, eyes falling half closed for a moment, “For all these times you forced me to scream and beg and writhe, for the times when you left me spent on the ground full of your- you're going to get _so much more_ than that, Maxwell. Oh, you're going to be a truly perfect plaything, with your lips around my cock like a good slave.” The thought of being taken advantage of was supposed to be revolting, he counted on it. It would've been revolting to him to be talked down to like that.

As Wilson finally gave Maxwell a good look over, he stopped his monologue, having to take in the sight before him. He expected disgust, fear even, but what he found in front of him instead was a mess of a man, with his pupils dilated, breathing hard, and a prominent tent in his trousers; scowling but otherwise shamefully aroused.

“Enjoying the mental imagery, huh Maxwell?» Wilson grinned, “What a filthy _pig_ you are.” the palm of the sovereign's hand enclosed around the clothed bulge, eliciting a sharp exhale from the restrained survivor, “Good boy. I didn't think you'd _like_ it. We can play this game for real, then.” as he rubbed harder, the body under him quivered and Maxwell produced a restrained groan, seeming to try to buck into the inviting palm. Wilson licked his lips, feeling his cheeks go pink as he rubbed the length through the fabric. How many times had this happened with their roles reversed the king didn't bother to count. But now he was finally getting his payback, and it was sweeter than everything he'd planned to do before. He came out of his thoughts as he heard Maxwell's breath hitch, felt his entire body shiver, and the sovereign stared in disbelief.

“Huh..” He came. It had to be that Maxwell had never given himself a break until this moment, and the reaction was probably too fast even for his liking. In any case, Wilson just grinned, pressing down on the man's still half-hard cock and watching him grimace at the dampness in his trousers, “ _Filthy._ But don't worry, this isn't the end.”

But oh no, he wasn't going to grovel and give Maxwell pleasure by his own hands. He had way, _way_ better means of doing that. The survivor silently watched as two familiar shapes rose behind Wilson, two exact replicas of their master, save for the fact they both were pitch black. So that was how they were going to play. Wilson himself moved away to get a better sight, summoning a few shadows to sit on them as if on a throne, clearly in control of the situation. His doubles moved to Maxwell pressing close against the body that had just begun cooling down, one behind him and one in front.

Maxwell felt the hand on his mouth give way and shook the shadow appendage off to retort, only to have his face gently but firmly grabbed by a clone as he was kissed. A slimy tongue invaded the magician's mouth, almost having him choke at the taste of ash it brought, he refused to kiss back, and as he tried to turn his face away it _bit_ him. Maxwell's lower lip bled as Wilson's double pulled away, giving him a toothy grin and motioning downwards. The man groaned as he felt the clone behind him cup his once again growing arousal, and the one in front front worked to undo the survivor's jacket.

Maxwell shivered, as the clones exposed his torso to the cold air, popping a few buttons of his vest and shirt in process. He felt vulnerable bare like that, and he was. At the corner of his eye Maxwell saw Wilson grin, and frowned, not yet broken. He wasn't going to break, he was-

There was a strained moan when they reached his pants. A mouth replaced the hand and it felt beautifully warm around the once again hard clothed length. Maxwell shuddered, unable to overcome the yearning. It's been way too long, and his body was reacting solely to the fact it was _Wilson_ of all people who was doing that to him. He had trained Wilson, got him used to accepting sex with him, but he had not noticed when he trained himself for the same, and the new sovereign seemed very well aware of that.

A hand rested on his behind, and the magician found himself slumping forward as much as he could, groaning shamefully at their combined attention. Maxwell closed his eyes, not wanting to feel that stare on him as he slowly crumbled, not wanting to see what was making him crumble in the first place. He could feel two pairs of hands travel down his body, pinch and rake their nails down the exposed flesh, making his already shallow breathing hitch with pleasure they forced out of him. Or was it even forcing? Why was he fighting it?

When the soft, barely solid lips found his for the second time, Maxwell replied with a searing kiss, trying to push the taste to the back of his mind. He heard a throaty laugh come from Wilson and he _loathed_ it as much as he loved it, “Glad to see we're on the same page, Maxwell.” the king cooed from his 'throne'. He spoke no more, just taking in the sight as the shadow behind Maxwell worked on unfastening his trousers. As they were pushed down together with his underwear, Wilson's grin became feral. He watched Maxwell's cock spring free, hard and stained with cum from the first time. It was a lot better to watch when he wasn't under him, the king had to admit. He wanted to see them spread his legs, he wanted to see them _fuck him in_. Maxwell's current position, however, didn't enable anything of the kind. His trousers could only go as far as his knees, his arms locked behind his back. Perhaps, it was time to change things a bit, spice them up, maybe.

The survivor felt the shadows that held him up to the moment dissipate, and almost fell forward, fingers sinking into the form of the clone, that held him upright, that toothy grin still present. Maxwell cried out as those teeth sank into the flesh of his neck, his hands being torn away from the body in front of him by the one behind as they yanked the clothing off his body. He could have sworn it went right into the fire, and wanted to retort and scream at Higgsbury because _they were the only ones he had_ , but nobody allowed him to do so. His mouth was occupied again and he tasted blood on the lips of the shadow that kissed him. All was forgotten. Maxwell grabbed at their head and dug his fingers into their hair. The unoccupied clone took the magician's shoes off next and as the pants were yanked off him as well the man could swear – they all went into the fire. He didn't care.

Wilson hummed on his throne, breathing heavy as he palmed his own erection through the fabric of his pants. He didn't expect himself to enjoy the show this much, but the way Maxwell was allowing to be degraded spurned the king on like nothing else. His hands itched to free himself and bring himself to completion, his neglected length pulsing under his fingers, but Wilson knew better. He wanted to drag this out, to see how far he could go with Maxwell finally being so obedient.

Maxwell was coaxed to stand on all fours, the clone behind him trailing their hands up his back to relax him into the position. As Maxwell looked forward past the shadow in front on him, he could see Wilson stare, hand in his trousers and face flushed. His mouth was opened in a weak oval and he appeared to be panting. The survivor grinned, but regretted it immediately as the king's expression changed and he felt the shadow behind him practically jam a finger past the tight ring of muscle. The magician hissed at the apparent lack of proper lubrication, “W-Wilson please-” he groaned in a hoarse voice. The demon relented and the pulsing pain subsided as the clone pulled out. The next time he pushed back, it was different, slick, warm and slow, and it had Maxwell almost moan right there as the fingers curled inside of him beautifully.

Wilson's breath hitched as he watched Maxwell's expression contort into one of blind pleasure. He silently willed one of the clones to part to keep the fire in check for him, and to see the whole picture: the former puppeteer on his hands and knees on the ground, a copy of Wilson himself working him open slowly. If Wilson squinted, he could see the other's cock dripping. That was quickly taken care of by the shadow, their hand wrapping around the rigid muscle and stroking it in unison with the movement of their fingers. Maxwell almost cried out, eyes closed. He bit his lip, forcing the sound away, but wheezing hard all the same as pleasure spread in warm waves from the hands of the one teasing him. When the second finger slid in and went faster, he really felt it, and Maxwell realized he wasn't going to last.

“Higgsbury I-”

“Call me Master, doll.”

Wilson grinned, sweating a bit as he Watched Maxwell's back arch, his legs shaking as he came for the second time in the hand of the shadow. Some of the come got stuck on black fingers and the clone wiped them off on the man's back, earning a grunt from the man himself.

“You're no fun, Maxwell,” Wilson laughed breathily, rubbing himself through his underwear just lightly, “Come on, I know you can do better than that.” Maxwell blinked, wondering what Wilson meant when he felt the head of the shadow's cock press against his entrance. He was overstimulated already, there was no way he was going to-

“W-Wait..” It didn't seem like the king was going to listen to any complaints though. The shadow's hold on Maxwell's hips was firm as the head slid in and the man could swear it felt almost like the real thing. He let out a ragged breath, teeth grinding together as it sank in, slowly but in a single movement. When the shadow moved to thrust, Maxwell expected pain or discomfort, but that never came, instead, a wave of pleasure rolled over him and all he could see through the haze was Wilson's face-splitting grin. The magician questioned his sanity, it just couldn't feel so good _so fast_ , but perhaps it was the lubrication...what did Wilson even use?

Each deep push of those hips against his caused Maxwell to mewl in bliss, and he moved back against them, absolutely lost in the desire. He was being _spoiled_ , and god he was _greedy_ for it. Wilson bit his lip, squeezing his erection as his hand finally touched the skin. Just a little longer, he told himself, but Maxwell was there within his reach, producing sounds so _ridiculous_ they went straight to the king's dick. Who would have known insanity and nightmare fuel combined could have such an effect on a person. The survivor's cock stood full again, thick fluid still fresh on the red tip.

“You _love_ it,” Wilson laughed, “You're such a whore, Maxwell, I couldn't even imagine, jeez.” the magician didn't argue. He groaned something so garbled Wilson failed to understand it, and the sovereign tilted his head, “What again?”

“Harder-” Maxwell repeated, clearer this time, “Fuh- fuck me Higgsbury, just- let me come-” he was close again, painfully so, he just needed a bit more and...

And nothing. The clone stopped completely despite Maxwell's desperate wheezing. Wilson frowned as he rose off the shadows that had held him, his heels clicking as he approached his toy, “You really are a slut, Maxwell,” he chuckled, “But you need not to forget who your master is. I am in charge, and you don't tell me whet to do. Well...maybe you could _beg-_ ”

The man in front of him scowled, glaring up at his captor. There was no way he would _beg_ of all things. Even in this state Maxwell was above that. Wilson seemed unimpressed, “No? Alright. I'll leave you to learn your lesson.”

The magician was left to fall forward as the shadows grabbed his arms, binding them together behind his back. The clone behind him pulled out, and Maxwell heard himself wail in frustration. He was hard, painfully so, and the release was unreachable without the use of his hands. He had no doubt Wilson would leave him there like that, the only option was-

Maxwell bit his lip. Maybe he could wait it out. It burned, but surely it wasn't too bad even if it was embarrassing to stand like that with his ass in the air and- and _the campfire threatening to burn out_ as the shadow left it alone.

“W-Wil-” a glare from the king, “Master- please.” the survivor breathed, feeling thoroughly broken and humiliated. The look on his face, the despair, made the sovereign smirk, “Will you be a good whore for me, Maxwell?”

The former king nodded, and suddenly Wilson was on front of his face, kissing him harshly and raking his claws through his hair. Maxwell cried out in the kiss as he was filled again and the sensation of pure bliss returned. With his hands released, he squeezed the thighs of the man sitting in front of him and it was Wilson's turn to moan, reminded just how _hard_ he was.

“Help me out, would ya, doll?” Wilson shoved the other's head down and groaned, feeling full warm lips mouth his erection through the trousers. Trembling hands undid the fly of and pulled the undergarments down. The sovereign had to cover his lips as that warm mouth enveloped him, sucking him down maybe a little clumsily but with effort and Wilson breathed hard, tugging ever so slightly on Maxwell's scalp. The clone went faster and it was enough to set the older man off. He came in a shuddering groaning mess, but with just a few droplets, signaling that his body was beginning to work overtime, taking more than it was designed for. No matter.

Maxwell was thankful when the copy pulled out and disappeared completely. He let go of the other's erection for a moment to steady his breathing and was met by Wilson's lips instead, warm and soft against his. The sovereign outstretched his legs, leaning back slightly, and let the magician lay down in a more comfortable position as well. “Go on,” Higgsbury husked, “Don't make me wait.”

Maxwell motioned back down, his tongue painting circles around the head of Wilson's cock for a moment before he wrapped his lips tightly against the head, almost able to take the whole length in in one swift motion. Wilson's breathing hitched above him, hips bucking slightly as he felt that tongue work him perfectly, “Don't remember you sucking me off much before,” he couldn't hold a groan at a particularly deep thrust, delving into the other's throat, “W-wonder where you learned that.”

Maxwell didn't reply. Obviously, he wasn't allowed to! He learned fast, that was a nice thing about him, at least. Wilson smiled down at the survivor, and pushed him off his length gently, “On your back.” he commanded, “legs spread for me.”

The magician hesitated for a moment, only to receive a light slap and a push, “No arguing, or I won't be gentle with you.” the elder obeyed, giving Wilson a glare as the smaller man moved between his legs, rubbing himself with the same nightmare fuel the clones used before.

It was such a downer to find Maxwell flaccid, though that was hardly a surprise after three orgasms, but maybe, just maybe Wilson could still fix that problem. Placing Maxwell's legs on his shoulders, the sovereign sank into the warm body, hearing a hiss of pain from the elder, who was most probably overused at this point. “It will be okay, doll,” Wilson chuckled breathily, reaching to stroke Maxwell back to life as he angled his thrusts, “We're having such a good night aren't we? Don't ruin it with complaints.” the only response was a weak groan. Wilson leaned down, biting at Maxwell's throat and leaving marks on the pale skin. As he moved down to the man's chest to nip there, he finally got the reaction he sought, feeling the organ in his hand harden considerably despite Maxwell's best efforts to keep quiet. Or maybe he was just tired, both was equally possible.

“That's a good boy-” the king encouraged, moving up again and watching as Maxwell arched his back off the ground and grabbed at Wilson's thighs. His eyes were closed, moans weak but otherwise apparent as Wilson fucked him agonizingly slowly and with almost painful precision. “Aren't I just spoiling you, hm? You'll have to do better next time, Maxwell, you need to learn to be _obedient_. And talk less, of course. That's kind of a turn off.” He was lecturing him during sex, who would have thought.

Wilson bit his lip, stifling a groan as he sped up, feeling his release approach. He'd been waiting too long for this. But breaking the stubborn ex-king was worth it. His hand sped up too, and Wilson watched with delight as Maxwell's face contorted into a look of agony mixed with pleasure. Oh, he couldn't hold it any longer. He released inside of the other with a drawn-out moan, hips shaking as he rode his orgasm out. He stayed nestled inside, rubbing the other until he quivered, fingers digging into the material of Wilson's trousers. He had nothing more to give, having been exploited completely by all the previous rounds. Only then did Wilson pull out. He stole a small kiss, leaving the spent man lay on the ground, breathing heavy, while the king buttoned his pants back up and fixed his attire.

“I'll be back again soon, Maxwell. Keep yourself shaved down there for me, would you?” Wilson chuckled, grinning down at the exhausted survivor. He said nothing to retort as a quiet hoarse, 'fuck you' reached him when he was about to leave.“That's an order, Maxwell. Do it or face the consequences. I hope you can learn quickly who's in charge here. Your days are over, bend to my whims or you'll regret it.”

And with that he was gone.

 


End file.
